


A Long List of Ruined People

by SmileDarlin



Series: D:BH [22]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Tragedy, Blood, Blood Loss, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Connor Deserves Happiness, Crying, Dead Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Depressed Hank Anderson, Depression, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Deviant Upgraded Connor | RK900, Divorced Hank Anderson, Don't Like Don't Read, Emotional Hurt, Everything Hurts, F/M, Ghosts, Good Dog Sumo (Detroit: Become Human), Gun Violence, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, Hallucinations, Hank Anderson Swears, Hank Anderson-centric, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, I Made Myself Cry, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Love/Hate, M/M, Major Character Injury, No Smut, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Relationship(s), Poor Life Choices, Post-Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Canon, Post-Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Russian Roulette, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Destruction, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Shooting Guns, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Hate, Unrequited Love, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Has a Different Name, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-24 18:21:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18168560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmileDarlin/pseuds/SmileDarlin
Summary: Hank is alone. Mostly.This story does contain a suicide attempt so, please, don't read it if that may trigger you.This is an au I may add more to in the future. To give a little context Connor dies before he could confess his feelings to Hank. Connor's memories are half transferred to Rich who finds himself draw to Hank. Not that Hank minds that.





	A Long List of Ruined People

**Author's Note:**

> You can thank/blame Stark on the discord for helping me develop this au.

There was no android at his house.

No-one peering through the windows, desperate to catch a glimpse of the shell left to rot there or smashing in his kitchen window so the pieces shine like sparks.

Just Hank, the silence and the one thing in his life he couldn't fuck up.

A bottle of liquid memory loss that glimmered ominously in the dim light of his kitchen. 

Well, that depends on your definition of “fuck up”

The bottle clinked against the crystal glass as the amber liquid corrupted it. It filled to the top and Sumo raised his head to peer at his best friend with turned down eyes. 

Hank just poured the liquid down his throat in one swift movement, the harsh burn nearly grounding him. 

Nearly. 

The fluctuating silhouette of someone he'd almost forgotten. All but the vast soft cut emerald eyes set in perfect, stainless porcelain. They always stared through him and stung more than any bullet ever would. The eyes and the boisterous, untamed curls that rolled down over her shoulders like waves of pure flame. 

“Back to your favorite place in the world, huh?” The melodic, feminine tones that once filled his life with had turned sour but they were laced with Hank's deep tone. She towered over where he hunched over the table, the roughly carved wood as a solid barrier sparing her from coming near.

“You always were the most comfortable at the bottom of a bottle” she chided. Although her teeth were dulled from misuse and years of rust. 

Her bite didn't sting like it used to. Hank's voice replaced too much of her.

She faded. Still there but the lines of her body softened as she sat down in the chair.

Another figure, more clear with strong lines, straightened out from where the ghost was running a hand through the soft fibers of Sumo's fur. The skin was an inverted starry sky. 

“I asked you for one thing, Hank, look after yourself” the voice was deeper than the last one. As sotto as a plush blanket and warm but the deeper undertone of Hank's own voice corrupted it with venom.

“But you couldn't save me why would I think you'd be able to save yourself?” He spat poison like a snake but it didn't feel like it belonged to him. 

He was never like that.

He faded. Crouching to run fingers through fur. Spend time with someone more deserving. 

A final phantom blinked into existence. Taller. Broader. Potent.

He was new here. A new fuck up to add to the list of people Hank's ruined.

So much more alive than the others ever would be. His teeth shimmered in the dim kitchen lights like rows and rows of knives. He came more prepared than any of the ghosts.

His ocene eyes had frozen over despite the boiling water Hank knew burned behind them. His skin was pale like the last ghosts but lacked the translucent qualities of the others and speckled with black stars like his predecessor.

But Hank learned not to compare the hard way.

“Did you ever even care?” He growled; teeth bared and poised. The deep tone was colder than any others, bitter like his milkless coffee hair. Hank's voice was a whisper for him, the phantom didn't need Hank to fuel his fire. 

“Do you know how hard it is to be in love with someone you've never met from the first moment of your existence?” He scowled. He prowled closer to Hank, so much different to the others. 

“Was I just a replacement for the little toy you broke?” He yelled into Hank's ear, but Hank's own voice started to overpower the phantom.

Hank knew he hated him but even this felt like an assassination of character. 

Demonizing someone who just wanted a partner who looked at him and didn't see a dead man in his place.

He faded. Blurred as he slunk into the background. Hank didn't do anything to stop him, fix things, apologise. 

He never did learn, did he?

The revolver was drawn out, the light bouncing off it like a broken halo. 

Click.

Click.

Click.

The gun set to its familiar work with happy chirps. The clink of glass and a hiss of breath clawing out of Hank's lips accompanied the bitter taste that smeared itself on the walls of his mouth and coated his throat. 

Click.

Click.

Click.

Sumo whined softly as the reassurance of ghostly hands stopped being enough. He stood carefully and paced over to his friend. 

Click.

Click.

Click. 

If Hank let the tears fill up his eyes the wobbling image of the ghosts around him almost appeared sad, regretful.

Not that he deserved them to feel anything for him. 

Click.

Click.

Click. 

Sumo laid his head on Hank's lap as his whining intensified.

Click. 

Click.

Click.

The ghost with the puppy eyes to challenge Sumo's laid a hand over the dog's chocolate orbs.

He didn't need to see this.

Click.

Click.

Ban-

The gun went off as Sumo knocked it away 

Alas the bullet still shattered through the front of Hank's skull, bringing the destruction he's always craved without the guts to cause it.

Hank didn't have time to register the unyielding pain before his eyes snapped closed. Hank's life pooled in a sticky puddled underneath him as it gushed out of the cavity in his skull. 

Sumo whined as he nudged Hank's limp arm. 

He barked, trying to get his friend to stop playing dead now. 

He kept barking. Howling desperately. 

Sumo howled like Hell on Earth and in some ways Hell had come to collect. 

He laid by Hank licking his face and placing his head on Hank's chest. 

His friend was just sleeping. That was it.

The front door smashed open.


End file.
